


We Lifted This House

by liar_iago



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2559293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liar_iago/pseuds/liar_iago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo doesn't know what it is that attracts him to this run-down, dingy house, but it's definitely not the rumours claiming it's haunted, because if there's one thing Kuroo Tetsurou knows for certain that he will never change his mind about, it's that ghosts don't exist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> helloooooooooo i have written this ghostfic!! so, fair warning--it's not actually completed yet, but the thing is the longer i keep telling myself i'll post it after it's completed the longer i keep putting it off!! so hopefully having this first part up here will motivate me to follow through! and if it backfires and you guys are left with this eternally incomplete fic, then i guess you'll just have to hate me forever and i suppose i'll just have to live with that ;v; enjoy!

The house was small, with two rooms and a kitchen, and overall not in the best shape. Every floorboard creaked, most of the doors didn’t seem to close all the way, and the backyard was overrun with weeds and vines. It was impressive, in a sense.

“I want it,” said Kuroo.

His declaration was met with a brief silence on his friend’s part.

“Uh, you were listening to me, right?” said Bokuto. “When I said it was _haunted?_ ”

“Hah,” said Kuroo. “If there’s one thing I know for certain in this world, it’s that there is absolutely no such thing as ghosts.”

And so it was that a month later, on a chilly autumn morning, Kuroo was hauling his belongings over the bent porch of this supposedly haunted house--and his new home.

“Are you sure about this?” said Bokuto, who had come over with a couple of other friends to help him move in.

“Bokuto, it’s only natural for a twenty-something guy to want his own place. It was about time I got out of that shitty apartment downtown anyway,” said Kuroo. “This part of town is quieter, and it’s still close to the station.”

“Maybe it’s quieter for a reason,” suggested Kenma, who had, predictably, spent the entire morning sitting on the new couch with his cell phone out.

“Oh, not you too,” groaned Kuroo.

“They say that the spirit of a child who was murdered by his own brother haunts this house,” said Bokuto.

“There is no such thing as ghosts!”

“While I do agree with you on that,” put in Akaashi, “do you really plan on living like this? You could at least try to clear out the, uh, garden in the back.”

“What? Of _course_ I’m going to get some restoration done,” said Kuroo with a scoff. “Do I look like a caveman to you?”

“You lived with a leaky roof in that other apartment for nearly three years because it was apparently ‘too much trouble’ to get it fixed,” Kenma remarked without even looking up from his phone.

“That was _one thing_ ,” said Kuroo. “And it only rains, like, twice a year.”

“Yeah--all of winter, and all of spring,” snorted Bokuto, and Akaashi hid a smile behind his hand.

“The point is that this place is good, and I like it, and I’ve already forked over the down payment anyway so there’s really no going back,” said Kuroo.

“Well, I suppose as long as you’re happy there’s no point in trying to change your mind,” said Akaashi.

“Let’s go get some lunch!” said Bokuto. “I’m starving.”

“Sounds good,” said Kuroo, grabbing his coat. “Kenma?”

“Mm,” said Kenma, putting his phone down. “I’m kind of tired. Think I’ll take a nap.”

“We’ll bring something back for you, then,” said Kuroo, and they headed out.

 

There was a little diner about a mile down the street that Kuroo had visited already a couple of times. Bokuto had insisted they walk for the sake of some fresh air after having inhaled probably “a billion dust particles” at the house, and Kuroo pointed out a couple of the neighboring homes as they passed them by.

“Met that one already,” he said. “Always smiling nervously like he’s hiding something, but he’s a nice guy.”

“Hey, I remember that one,” said Bokuto, pointing to another. “We went there once on a case to question a victim’s relative or something, right, Akaashi?”

Akaashi nodded. “She was a nice old woman with an odd habit of collecting porcelain cats, if I recall correctly.”

“This place is great,” said Kuroo as they arrived at the diner, a dingy little establishment tucked into the corner of the town’s main plaza. “The owners are real good guys, introduced me to the agent who set me up with the house--oh, there’s one of them right there.”

Sugawara, a man around Kuroo’s age with light hair and kind eyes, smiled at them as they entered. “Well, if isn’t Detective Kuroo! Did you get moved in all right?”

“Just Kuroo is fine while I’m off duty,” said Kuroo. “Suga-san, this is Bokuto and Akaashi, from one of the nearby precincts.”

“And you’re all detectives? Wow,” said Sugawara. “This part of town’s real quiet, so we don’t get a lot of police activity, you know? Well, there was the incident a few years ago...”

Bokuto’s eyes widened. “Ooh, are you talking about the homicide case that happened in--”

“Bokuto-san,” warned Akaashi quietly.

Sugawara laughed. “I imagine Kuroo-san has grown tired of hearing this. My apologies.”

“It’s fine,” said Kuroo, shrugging. Talking about ghosts and the like didn’t make them real.

“Anyway, how about some drinks?” said Sugawara, pulling out his notepad. “And an appetizer on the house to celebrate your moving in!”

Lunch was an unexpectedly busy affair: everyone who passed through the diner seemed to recognise Kuroo, and there were many greetings exchanged. The people were good-natured and cheerful, and almost all of them offered him their contact information, urging him to call if he ever needed anything.

“Looks like you’re going to be pretty popular around here,” said Bokuto after the crowd had died down and Kuroo had saved the last number (from a construction worker named Tanaka who promised a discount if he hired his company to restore the house).

“No one’s moved into this area for years,” said Sugawara as he collected their plates. “It’s lonely, in a way, even when we have each other.”

“Not a single person?” said Akaashi. “Is it because of the rumours surrounding that house?”

Sugawara nodded, sighing softly. “It was really just a rumour a bunch of the kids started after the incident, but you know how these things get blown out of proportion so easily, especially as time passes.”

“Ace Detective Bokuto here was quick to eat it up,” said Kuroo with a grin, and Bokuto had the decency to blush.

“Well, we’re just glad that you’re here, Kuroo-san, whatever it was that convinced you to come,” said Sugawara. “You guys up for ordering some dessert?”

“Yes!” Bokuto replied immediately, but Kuroo held up a hand.

“Sorry, hold that thought.” Kuroo frowned at the caller ID on his phone; Kenma hated talking on the phone and only called when he needed something urgently.

“Kenma?”

The beat of silence that followed was unnaturally quiet, as if Kenma was holding his breath. Then--

“ _Someone’s here_ ,” said Kenma softly.  

Kuroo’s heart rate spiked at the way Kenma’s voice shook. “Kenma, where are you? Are you still at the house?”

“I’m in the bedroom,” Kenma whispered. “I saw something pass by the door and I thought it was you, but…”

“Lock the door right now,” ordered Kuroo, rising from his seat and dropping a few bills onto the table. Akaashi apologized quietly to Sugawara and the three of them left the diner, breaking into a sprint once they reached the sidewalk. “We’re coming, okay? Don’t move.”

“Don’t hang up,” said Kenma. “I think I just saw them pass by again.”

“I won’t, just try to stay quiet,” said Kuroo. “We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

“Th-they’re standing in front of the door--” Kenma cut himself off with a yelp.

“Kenma? Kenma!”

The line was silent.

“Shit!” Kuroo ran faster, praying fervently for Kenma to be all right.

The front door was unlocked, and Kuroo cursed himself for his stupidity as he raced towards the bedroom, wishing he had his gun. When the bedroom door refused to budge, Kuroo growled “dammit,” before ramming it right off its hinges.

“Hands up!” he shouted out of habit and scanned the room, ready to detain the intruder.

Kenma was alone in the room, lying prone on the bed.

“Shit,” Kuroo said again, checking him for injuries.

He was unscathed, as far as Kuroo could tell, and he was breathing steadily as if asleep.  

“Hey.” Kuroo tapped Kenma’s cheek to wake him. “Come on, come on…”

“House is clear,” called Bokuto, and a moment later Akaashi reported the same of the surrounding property.

As Bokuto and Akaashi entered the bedroom, Kenma’s eyes fluttered open. “Kuroo…?” he mumbled.

“Oh, thank god,” said Kuroo, pulling him into a hug. “What the hell happened?”

“I--there was someone here,” said Kenma, putting a hand to his head. “A kid.”

“A kid?”

“He was tall, but I’m sure he was a at least younger than me,” insisted Kenma. “He was wearing glasses, I think.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “You fainted at the sight of some high school nerd?”

“It wasn’t that,” said Kenma, scowling at Kuroo. “Something weird happened, and… Tetsurou, I swear I’m telling the truth here, okay?”

“What? Of course,” said Kuroo, but for some reason he grew anxious.

Kenma glanced over to the entrance of the bedroom, where the door lay on the ground. “That door was closed when you came, right?”

Kuroo nodded.

“I locked it--I know I did,” said Kenma. “But he still came in somehow. I remember seeing the shadow from underneath the door, and then I blinked and he was in the room, like--well, like he passed through the wall.”

Bokuto gasped. “The ghost!”

Kuroo frowned, trying to stomach his friend’s testimony. If this were someone other than Kenma, he would have assumed they were joking and insisted on hearing the truth, but this _was_ Kenma, and he didn’t play these kinds of pranks.

“Okay,” said Kuroo slowly, looking around the room. Two windows, one of them unlocked but netted, and a bathroom that connected with the second room. “You’re sure he didn’t come in some other way?”

Kenma shook his head. “It happened too quickly.”

“There could have been two people,” said Akaashi.

“...Maybe,” conceded Kenma, although he looked unconvinced.

“You should go home for now,” said Kuroo. “We’ll get this figured out.”

“I’ll take you back,” offered Akaashi, leading him out of the room.

Kuroo sighed, finally letting the tension drain from his system as he watched Akaashi drive off with Kenma in tow.

“Nothing was stolen,” said Bokuto. “Could be that there were kids using this place as a hideout and came in today without realising the house had been bought.”

“Yeah,” said Kuroo, having come to the same conclusion.

“It could have also been a ghost--”

“No, it really couldn’t have.”

“You gonna report it?”

Kuroo pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, it probably was just a couple of kids. They won’t be back. Thanks for helping out, man. You should go home and get some rest.”

“All right. Be careful tonight, okay?” said Bokuto, and Kuroo could tell that he wasn’t making a joke about the ghost.

He nodded. “I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

Kuroo spent the rest of the evening inspecting the house, trying to find anything abnormal, but the state of the building made it difficult to determine what was odd and what was simply in poor shape.

He gave up after several hours of uncovering nothing substantial and was pondering his next step on the couch when there was a knock at his door (the doorbell was broken).

Sawamura, the other owner of the diner they’d been to earlier, stood on his porch with a plastic bag of food containers. He was shorter than Kuroo, but had a solid sort of look about him, like if he decided to stand in one spot without moving then he would stay in that spot and there was nothing you could do about it short of bringing out a lifting crane. He always looked at everyone with the same intensely focused gaze, as if he was constantly searching for a weak point. If Kuroo didn’t specialize in dealing with criminals he might have been intimidated by him.

All in all, he was a pretty nice guy.

“Koushi said you ran off in the middle of your meal this afternoon. Hope everything’s all right,” said Sawamura.

“Oh--yeah, everything’s fine now,” said Kuroo. “I wasn’t expecting this. Thank you.”

Sawamura shrugged. “It’s all food you paid for.”

“Tell Suga-san I’m really sorry for running out on him like that. I’ll definitely go in for a proper meal next time,” said Kuroo.

“He’ll be ecstatic,” said Sawamura. “Don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything, okay?”

“Of course,” said Kuroo, and as Sawamura turned to leave, a terrible thought popped into his head. “Actually, can I ask you something?”

“Hm? Sure.”

“The boy who...used to live in this house,” said Kuroo. “Did you know him?”

Sawamura’s expression twisted, and Kuroo regretted opening his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“No, it’s all right. No one could blame you for being curious,” said Sawamura. He suddenly looked rather tired, as people who became sad tended to. “I was captain of the volleyball team during my third year in high school. He joined the club as a first year. Tall, dyed his hair, always had a smug smile on his face...but he actually turned out to be a real good kid.”

Sawamura shook his head. “He left too soon.”

“I’m sorry for bringing up bad memories,” said Kuroo.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Sawamura. “We all remember him fondly.”

“I’ll take care of this house,” promised Kuroo. “Thank you for your time.”

“We owe you our gratitude as well,” said Sawamura with a smile. “You’re the first person in a long time who’s treated Tsukishima like more than just an urban legend.”

“Was that his name?”

Sawamura nodded. “Tsukishima Kei.”

And in that moment, it was as if someone had taken a branding iron and seared it into Kuroo’s brain, as if telling him, _Never forget this name_. It frightened him, but he didn’t let it show.

“I’ll remember it,” he said truthfully. “Goodnight, Sawamura-san.”

-:-

The food was good, and freshly made judging by how it was still piping hot when Kuroo opened the containers. Just what had he done to deserve such kindness?

_Okay, no more of this haunted house business_ , he decided as he ate. _I owe it to these people._

After dinner, he banished all thoughts of the (nonexistent) ghost boy and set about arranging a schedule for the next few days to get some work done. He would probably call Tanaka’s company tomorrow to get the renovation plans started, then do some grocery shopping in the afternoon on the way back from work…

A chill ran down Kuroo’s back and he glanced over his shoulder as if expecting to see something there, but the room was empty.

“No more ghost business,” he reminded himself as he turned back to his desk. “Because ghosts don’t exist, much less the lingering spirit of a high school boy--”

“I’m not a high schooler, you know.”

“ _Fuck_ \--” Kuroo jolted so hard in his seat he overbalanced and sent himself sprawling onto the floor. He scrambled to his feet, eyes wide and searching--

A young man stood in the center of his room, mere feet away, with a crooked smile on his face. Well--perhaps “stood” wasn’t an entirely accurate term to use. He had feet for sure, covered in a pair of ordinary-looking sneakers, but the way they were very clearly floating several inches off the ground was definitely and without a doubt very _not_ ordinary.

“W-w-w-what,” said Kuroo, backing away slowly and reaching for his gun belt.

“Whoa,” said the boy, holding up his hands. “Already dead.”

“You’re not a ghost,” said Kuroo, although he pulled away from the gun. “Ghosts don’t exist.”

“So you’re one of _those_ people, huh,” said the levitating boy who was definitely not Tsukishima Kei’s ghost.

“Can you prove that you’re not just some kid hanging from the ceiling with wire? I’ve seen shit like that before, believe me,” said Kuroo.

Not-Tsukishima’s-Ghost raised an eyebrow, then began drifting (God have mercy) towards Kuroo.

Kuroo put a hand up. “No-no-no-no, I’m sure you can find a way to do it without having to come any closer.”

The stranger looked unimpressed, but Kuroo didn't have it in him at the moment to be embarrassed or offended, for in one swift motion the not-ghost glided up through the ceiling, disappearing completely.

“Okay,” said Kuroo, struggling to register what he had just witnessed. “There is definitely an explanation for this.”

“Yeah: I’m a ghost,” replied a disembodied voice.

A moment later, Kuroo fainted dead away at the sight of a human head emerging from the ground and woke up the next morning with vague recollections of an exceptionally strange dream and a terrible crick in his neck.   


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are!! thank you so much to everyone who commented and left kudos! i was NOT expecting to see so many comments ahhhh thanks again everyone!! 
> 
> also as an extra note, i dont have a beta and i know i always miss things no matter how many times i proofread, so if you ever notice any mistakes please let me know, thanks! 
> 
> enjoy! <3 <3

“You’re actually pretty calm about all this, aren’t you?” said Tsukishima the next morning after having scared the daylights out of Kuroo by appearing behind him when he looked in bathroom mirror.  

“That’s because in my heart I still believe I’m just imagining you,” replied Kuroo, “and I happen to be much more comfortable talking with imaginary friends than I am with ghosts.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, “That was kind of sad.”

“Yeah,” agreed Kuroo, looking down into his cereal to hide the pink that dusted his cheeks. “Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.”  

Tsukishima didn’t reply, and Kuroo thought for a moment that he might have actually offended him enough to send him away, but the hope was short-lived.

“You’re...not actually going to stay here, are you?”

Kuroo looked up, thrown by the odd quality in Tsukishima’s voice. He had almost sounded afraid.

Tsukishima Kei (Kuroo could only accept that somehow, this really was him) was tall and thin, but appeared to have grown past the phase where it made him lanky and awkward. He had brown eyes and blonde hair that he insisted was not dyed and wore square glasses and a gray shirt that was splotched with blood, presumably from the wound that had killed him. He seemed to have the habit of always lacing his fingers together as if he was uncomfortable with something, although this probably had to do with the fact that he was a dead person stuck in the world of the living.

Kuroo shrugged and went back to eating. “Unless you can find a way to refund all my money and time, you’re stuck with me.”

“Most people turn tail and run the minute they find out the place is haunted,” said Tsukishima.

“So you’ve been scaring them off, have you?”

“Not on purpose,” said Tsukishima. “Usually.”

“And yesterday?”

“I didn’t know your friend was there, otherwise I would have stayed out of sight.”

“You sure as hell knew I was there.”  

“Yeah, that I did on purpose.”

“Don’t want me here, huh?”

“Basically.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“I’m just trying to help you out,” said Tsukishima. “You’re not going to gain anything from living in this house. Also, your hair is starting to stick up again.”

Kuroo smoothed a hand over his perpetual bedhead to no avail, but refused to let it derail the conversation. “So what makes a ghost, anyway? You got a score to settle before you move on, or something?”

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know,” said Tsukishima.  

“Yeah, I would,” retorted Kuroo.

“Hmph.” Without so much as a parting word, Tsukishima disappeared into the wall and didn’t return, leaving Kuroo to stare at the empty space where he’d been floating moments ago.

“Talk about rude,” Kuroo muttered into the dregs of his cereal.

-:-

The rest of the morning passed without incident, thankfully. Tsukishima and his house seemed to be the only things even remotely supernatural in the area, and that was already proving to be a lot more than Kuroo had bargained for. 

Pushing the topic of ghosts and such out of his mind, Kuroo headed over to Tanaka's office for a short consultation, and Tanaka agreed to inspect the house over the weekend so that they could discuss renovation plans in detail. Kuroo picked up some groceries on the way home from the office and then headed out to the station.  

He didn’t expect to see Kenma there, pushing papers as usual for the captain.

“Hey,” said Kuroo. “Feeling all right?”

Kenma nodded without looking up from his work. “It’s not like I got hurt or anything.”

“Right. So, about the kid you saw…”

“Tsukishima Kei, eighteen years old at the time of his death, stabbed once in the chest,” recited Kenma. He fixed his sharp, cat-like gaze on Kuroo. “Right?”  

Kuroo pressed his lips together. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled.

Kenma held up the first page of a thick case file. It had a small photo of Tsukishima clipped to it. “I’m not a detective, but I can still remember a face. You saw him too, didn’t you?”

“Well, you’re not officially a detective but you’re still my partner, so _technically_ …”

Kenma held his stare without blinking.

“Fine,” said Kuroo, putting his hands up in surrender. “Yes. I saw him.”

“So unless he somehow managed to survive being stabbed in the chest with a kitchen knife,” continued Kenma, “I would say there’s more than meets the eye to this situation.”

Kuroo sighed. “Yes, _okay_ , he’s a ghost.”

“So what did he say to you?”

“What?”

“He spoke to you, didn’t he?”

“And how could you have known that?”

“You’re the one who bought the house,” said Kenma with a shrug. “It’s part of the pattern.”

“Okay,” Kuroo said slowly. “I think you need to start watching less of those paranormal investigations programs.”

“But I’m right, aren’t I,” said Kenma, not even bothering to make it sound like a question.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Yes, he talked to me. Tried to scare me away, but didn’t really do a good job of it.”

“There aren’t many things in this world that do scare you,” said Kenma.

“Well, there is the inevitability of Bokuto getting on my ass about this for weeks,” said Kuroo.

“I texted him this morning,” said Kenma.

“Great. Thanks,” said Kuroo. “Also, it’s kind of weird that you’re completely okay with the idea that we’ve both met a _ghost_.”

“I’ve seen things you couldn’t even imagine,” said Kenma.

“No, you haven’t,” replied Kuroo flatly.

Kenma gave Kuroo a tiny smile as he held Tsukishima’s case file out to him.

Kuroo blinked at it.

“You’re curious,” insisted Kenma.

“Only about where I can find an exorcist,” Kuroo said, but he found himself taking the file anyway.  

“So what are you going to do after you’re done reading it?” Kenma said, going back to his paperwork as he spoke.

“Depends on what I find,” said Kuroo. “Did you…?”

“Nope,” said Kenma. “Wouldn’t know what to look for.”

“Well, when you say it like that, it kind of puts us in the same boat,” said Kuroo, and when Kenma replied with only a shrug, he sighed and headed over to his desk with the feeling that this file was going to raise more questions than it would answer.

-:-

He wasn’t wrong.

When Kuroo returned to the house that evening, his head was still spinning. The file had been wildly disorganized and fractured, and although he had come to understand why this was about halfway through, it had still been an absolute pain to read through.

“Honey, I’m home,” he said to the empty living room as he kicked off his shoes, and Tsukishima melted out of the china cabinet.

“You look terrible,” he said.

“And yet seeing your radiant face has lifted my spirits already,” Kuroo replied, only half lying. Tsukishima’s face really did radiate light--a dull, gray sort of glow that surrounded his whole body and kind of made Kuroo want to hide under his covers every time he thought too much about it. Everything about Tsukishima was unnatural and just _not right_.

Tsukishima pointed to the folder in Kuroo’s hand. “What’s that?”

Kuroo hesitated, considering his options. He could lie and maybe avoid spooking (ha, ha) Tsukishima into clamming up, but something told him he would get answers faster by just telling him the truth.

“Case file,” he said. “It has your name on it.”

“Oh,” said Tsukishima, and although his expression remained unaffected, Kuroo saw the way his eyes darted towards the file and away again several times, like he was trying to figure out how to snatch it from him. “Didn’t know that was still around.”

“Should I not?” said Kuroo, even though he’d already read the entire thing. Twice.

“I can’t exactly stop you,” said Tsukishima. “You won’t find anything worth your time in there, though.”

“I’ll take my chances,” said Kuroo.

“That’s what all the ones before you said.” Tsukishima shrugged. “Not that they knew any better.”

This was something Kuroo wanted to hear about, and he jumped on the opportunity to make Tsukishima talk. “The ones before me--what were they looking for?”

Tsukishima looked at Kuroo for a long time, as if he was waiting for Kuroo to answer his own question, then glanced down one last time at the file. “What are _you_ looking for?”

Kuroo looked down at the file as well and took a moment to consider before answering, despite knowing already what he was going to say.

“A way to make this house a home.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened fractionally, then he turned towards the china cabinet, lacing his fingers together in front of him. “Well, good luck with that.”

“Wait,” said Kuroo, even though he knew Tsukishima was going to ignore him. There was no way he could let him leave without getting something out of him. He couldn’t call himself a detective otherwise.

He had less than a second to make a decision before Tsukishima disappeared into the wall. He prayed silently to no one in particular that it would be the right one.

“Did your brother really kill you?”

Tsukishima turned back around to face Kuroo, unimpressed. He had heard this question a million times, Kuroo knew, whispered amongst the people of this town for years now: middle school children making their daily commute past the house, housewives leaning over fences as they glanced down the street, young thrill seekers creeping over the groaning porch in the middle of the night.  

“If I knew the answer to that,” Tsukishima said quietly, “would I still be here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short disclaimer: i know nothing about how the police system works in either japan or my homeland america. everything i "know" is based off what i've seen watching brooklyn nine nine, which might not be the most reliable source lmao


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is so late im sorry!!! i really have no excuse u.u i'll try my best to get the final chapter in on time but for now, please enjoy! thanks for all the comments and kudos, everyone <3

After that, Kuroo was afraid he had scared Tsukishima off for good, but he was there to greet him the next morning, this time by popping out of Kuroo's wardrobe as he opened it. 

“When are you going to get tired of that?” said Kuroo as he bent down to pick up the jacket that had jumped out of his hand.

“When you stop yelping like a little girl every time I do it,” said Tsukishima truthfully. “Heading down to the station to do more research?”

“Want to come along?” teased Kuroko.

Tsukishima blinked at him as if he didn’t get the joke, then glanced away and laced his fingers together. “I’m tied to this house. I can’t leave the property.”

“Oh,” said Kuroo. _Duh_ , he told himself, although he wasn’t sure how he could have been responsible for knowing that. “My bad.”

Tsukishima shrugged.

“I’ll, uh, see you tonight, then,” said Kuroo.

“Oh,” said Tsukishima, staring at him. “Sure.”

-:-

“ _Dude_ ,” said Bokuto as soon as Kuroo walked into the station.

“Dude,” agreed Kuroo with a grin, and they exchanged fist bumps.

“And here we see two grown men who share the unique property of having never mentally matured past the high school level,” narrated Akaashi, and next to him Kenma smiled.

“You off today?” said Kuroo.

“Basically,” said Bokuto at the same time Akaashi said, “Not really.”

“We got called in to help on a case, but the one who’s in charge of it is Ito, so naturally he told us to butt out and ran off without us,” said Bokuto.

“Ah,” said Kuroo. Ito was one of the station’s more “experienced” detectives, having been there the longest, and was the only one who refused to work with a partner no matter how difficult the case was.

“But dude,” said Bokuto again. “The ghost kid! Have you really been talking to him?” said Bokuto.

“Yeah,” said Kuroo. “I think we’re actually becoming friends, which is kind of weird.”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “Is that safe?”

“What if he’s prepping you for some kind of soul-sucking ritual?” said Bokuto.

“Somehow I doubt that’s his goal,” said Kuroo. “And why is neither of you surprised in the least?”

“Dude, I already knew this would happen, remember?” said Bokuto. “I’m the one who showed you the house.”

“What? I’m pretty sure you were joking half the time.” Kuroo turned to Akaashi. “I thought at least you were on my side before all this.”

“This is my ‘surprised’ face,” Akaashi assured him, although his expression had not changed from its usual arrangement of “utterly unimpressed.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Why do I look like the idiot now for not having been prepared for this?”

“We tried to warn you, man,” said Bokuto solemnly.

“Is that his file?” said Akaashi, pointing at the folder in Kuroo’s arms in the same manner as Tsukishima had last night. As Kuroo handed it to him, he was struck with the vague impression that perhaps Akaashi and Tsukishima might have been friends if they’d known each other.

“You want some help?” said Bokuto.

“Appreciate it,” said Kuroo, and Kenma pulled out copies of the case files as if he’d been waiting (he probably had).

“Do you believe his brother killed him?” said Akaashi.

“I don’t know,” said Kuroo. “Maybe I’ll decide today.”

 -:-

They made their way through the case quickly and efficiently, but there were no revelations. Three hours later, they still had only what the file had given them directly, and it wasn’t much: Tsukishima Kei, the victim; Tsukishima Akiteru, the suspect; and an unknown third party that for some reason had been at the scene but had stolen nothing and not even handled the murder weapon as far as they knew.  

“This case file is too sparse,” said Akaashi, saying aloud what was on everyone’s minds.

“Ugh,” Bokuto agreed, dropping his head onto the table. It made a muted thud noise through the papers, but still sounded like it hurt. Luckily, Bokuto was known to have a rather thick skull at times, so Kuroo wasn’t worried.

“Something is missing here,” said Kuroo, as if it wasn’t obvious enough already. “The suspect had no motive.”

“According to pretty much everyone in town, Tsukishima Akiteru loved his brother,” said Akaashi. “The entire Tsukishima family was very closely knit.”

“And yet Akiteru committed suicide two days after Kei’s murder,” said Kuroo. “He hadn’t even been formally charged yet.”

“I still don’t understand what that third person was doing there,” put in Bokuto.

“I’ve probably watched a crime show with a case like this,” said Akaashi.

“Do you remember how it ended?” said Bokuto.

“I fell asleep halfway through,” Akaashi replied helpfully, and Kuroo put his head in his hands.

“We need to find out more about the third person,” said Bokuto.

“Whether or not Akiteru killed his brother, that third person was a part of it,” said Kuroo.

“It would be nice if they hadn’t suspended the investigation after Akiteru’s death,” said Akaashi. “Only an idiot of a detective would take suicide as decisive evidence of guilt.”

“You don’t think Akiteru did it, do you?” said Kuroo.

Akaashi seemed to hesitate, staring at Kuroo for a moment before answering. “No, I don’t. I hate to jump to conclusions with so little evidence, but I’m willing to bet Akiteru is just the kind of person the people around him thought he was. There’s no way he did it,” he said.

Kuroo remembered the look on Tsukishima’s face last night when he had asked him about his brother. “That’s why he’s stuck here,” he realized. “Tsukishima’s spirit, I mean. He doesn’t want to believe his brother killed him either.”

“But there’s still a part of him that thinks he did,” finished Bokuto. “He doesn’t know about the third person.”

“We have to find this guy. Akiteru didn’t kill his brother,” said Kuroo. “Not on purpose.”

“So you do think Tsukishima died by his brother’s hand,” said Akaashi.

“Akiteru took his own life for a reason,” said Kuroo. “It can’t have been something as arbitrary as grief over a dead sibling. It was guilt, but I still agree with you on the kind of person Akiteru was. Your actions don’t have to be intentional for you to be guilty about them.”

“Then where do we begin?” said Bokuto. “By the time the people on this case went back to looking for the third person, any leads they might have had on him had gone cold.”

“Yoshino Takeshi.”

The three detectives turned towards Kenma, who continued speaking without looking away from his computer screen.

“He skipped town just a week after the incident--even sold his house, which was a stupid move, but he just happened to be lucky the detectives were even stupider and didn’t blink twice at it. He’s disappeared since then, but he’s probably living somewhere nearby with a false identity. I can find him by the end of this week.”

“Why are we even here,” said Bokuto, and Kuroo grinned.

“Remind me again why he doesn’t have a badge,” said Akaashi.

“He couldn’t pass the physical exams,” said Kuroo. “Well, it was more like he didn’t even want to try.”

“A choice I don’t regret in the slightest,” put in Kenma offhandedly before returning to work.

“So what do we do now?” said Bokuto.

“ _We_ ,” said Akaashi, pointing at his partner, “are going to go find Ito and convince him to let us do our job with him.”

“I’ll see you guys around,” said Kuroo as they gathered up their materials and prepared to head out.

Before they left, Akaashi leaned over and spoke quietly to Kuroo.

“Typically, I would tell you to be careful since we still don’t know what exactly we’re dealing with, but this time I think things are different. I think Tsukishima Kei has been waiting to meet someone like you for a long time.”

-:-

Kuroo had the next day off, which he was grateful for. He stayed in bed until nearly noon, lazily stirring Akaashi's words from the previous afternoon around in his head, and only got up when he couldn’t fall asleep any longer. As he was getting breakfast, he noticed Tsukishima hovering at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper that he had left out the other day.

“You’re up late,” said Tsukishima by way of greeting.

“Day off. This is the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other better, don’t you think?”

"Oh, goody," said Tsukishima flatly.

"Hey, you're the one who greets me every morning."

“I’m _haunting_ you,” said Tsukishima, and Kuroo could have sworn he’d seen a tiny smile form at the corner of his lips before it disappeared.

As Kuroo settled at the table with breakfast, a thought occurred to him. “When was the last time you read a newspaper?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “I didn’t really read them when I was alive.”

_When I was alive_. Hearing him say things like that still made Kuroo anxious with the reminder that he was talking to the spirit of a dead person, but this time he shook it off quickly. Panicking didn’t make this any less real, no matter what his instincts kept telling him.

“So you have absolutely no idea what’s been going on outside of this house since you died.”

“Pretty much.”

“Wow. I think you’re due for an update on what you’ve been missing out on these past few years,” said Kuroo.  

“Uh, not interested,” said Tsukishima, but Kuroo raised a hand to stay his objections.

“I refuse to be haunted by a ghost who can’t even hold a conversation with me about which movies are out right now,” he said.

“What?”

“Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can’t still let yourself be embraced by the all-reaching hands of pop culture.”

“Wait,” said Tsukishima, narrowing his eyes. “Are you trying to _bond_ with me?”

“We’re basically roommates,” said Kuroo. “Do you have any idea how awkward it is to live with someone you don’t even know?”

Tsukishima sighed. “Fine, but if we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” said Kuroo coolly while he mentally pumped his fist in triumph. “What do you want to know?”

-:-

“Wait--you mean they broke up because of a _girl_? That’s so cliche.”

Kuroo put a hand on his chin. “It was more like a bunch of small things that had been building up and culminated with the girl.”  

“Was there at least any new material? They were working on a new album when I was in my third year at high school,” Tsukishima recalled.

“I’m not sure, actually,” said Kuroo. “I’d kind of lost interest in them by them. Would have checked in more often if I’d known they were your favorite band.”

“I don’t know if they were my favorite. I listen to a lot of music,” said Tsukishima. He paused, then corrected himself. “Listened.”  

“Do you miss it?” said Kuroo.

Tsukishima stared at something far away. “I guess. I don’t know. After a while I think I kind of stopped caring about everything I didn’t have anymore.”

“That,” said Kuroo, “is absolutely unacceptable.” He stood up suddenly and picked up his keys. “I’m buying a stereo.”

“What?” said Tsukishima as he watched Kuroo throw on his coat. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, and I’m going to need to know your favorite movies,” said Kuroo.

“Wait, what are you--why are you--?”

“Maybe I’ll get some snacks, too. Do you like popcorn?”

“I can’t actually--”

“I’ll just find something. Do you play video games? Maybe I’ll set up the PS3 when I get back--”

“Kuroo,” said Tsukishima loudly. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Okay,” said Kuroo. He took a deep breath. “First, I’m going to buy a stereo so that you can listen to your music again. Then, after you’ve told me all of your favorite movies, I’m going to find them and bring them here so that we can watch them together. Then, we’re going to talk about the movies we watched and why they’re your favorite so that I can learn about you because you haven’t talked to anyone about yourself in six years. Sound good?”

Tsukishima stared at him, eyes wide. “S-sure,” he stuttered. “Okay.”

“All right. Tell me what you want to watch and I’ll be back in an hour.”

-:- 

It took him two to find all six titles Tsukishima had given him.

“Are we really doing this?” said Tsukishima as Kuroo popped _The Holiday_ into his DVD player.

“I spent half an hour finding this movie,” replied Kuroo. “Never would have imagined you to be a rom-com kind of guy.”  

“It’s really just this one,” said Tsukishima, moving to hover in the general vicinity of the couch cushion next to Kuroo. “You’ll see why.”

By the time the movie had ended, Kuroo was still wiping his eyes.

“Are you always so easily moved to tears?” said Tsukishima.

“I’m a sensitive guy,” said Kuroo. “It comes with having been born with a kind soul.”

“Right. I suppose this is the part where I burst out laughing.”

“What? I mean it.”

Tsukishima’s smirk faded. “Why are you doing this?”

“Didn’t I just say I was born with--”

“No, seriously. Why are you acting like you owe me this?”

Kuroo looked up at Tsukishima, but his expression was unreadable. Also, his face was slightly transparent, which might have contributed to that.

He sighed. “I’m doing this because when I said I wanted to make this house a home I didn’t mean it to be for just me.”

“This has been my home all my life,” said Tsukishima.

“What about in your death?” returned Kuroo. “This place is different for you now because of what happened.”

“So you’re taking pity on me.”

“That may be part of it,” Kuroo conceded. “But mostly I just thought it would be nice if I could see you as a friend rather than just the resident poltergeist. Call me selfish.”

“This isn’t a long term thing, you know,” said Tsukishima. “You’re going to leave for some reason or the other.”

“I could say the same to you. This house can’t keep you here forever; it’s not your prison, and it’s not going to be your final resting place,” said Kuroo.

“What, you believe in the afterlife or something?”

“I believe there’s an end to everything, and wandering around as a specter for eternity doesn’t fit into that equation.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly having fun here--” Tsukishima cut himself off as the realization dawned on him. “You know. You figured it out.”

“Not quite yet, but I’m close,” admitted Kuroo.

Tsukishima drew his legs up, hugging them, and Kuroo thought he might have seen his eyes water before he put his head in his arms. “I always thought that if I ever...I figured I would just disappear. I’ve never believed in the afterlife.”

“It’s still better than being stuck like this until the end of time.”

“Then you’ll tell me?”

“When the time comes, yes.”

Tsukishima was quiet for a long time, not moving from his position, and Kuroo wondered briefly if ghosts could sleep.

_He was just eighteen_ , Kuroo remembered as he watched him and waited. _Just a kid_. None of his family or friends had been allowed a chance to say goodbye.  

Kuroo couldn’t even fathom how Tsukishima himself must have been thinking, closing his eyes for what he might not even have known was the last time. Had it hurt? Or perhaps he had died quickly enough that he hadn’t felt a thing.

Kuroo was almost angry at himself. If only he had been there. If he had known somehow he could have been able to help him--

Minutes passed and Kuroo remained quiet, partially because he was still absorbed in his own thoughts and partially because he didn’t know what to say to break the silence anyway.

Then, Tsukishima looked up. The expression on his face was open, pleading. It made him look younger, and when he spoke, his voice was small.

“I don’t want to go out alone.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows went up. “What do you think we’ve been doing all afternoon?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg!!!! i am so sorry this took so long but these past couple weeks have been so hectic for me :,c i even ended up planning another chapter even though i promised this would be the end because there was just so much of the story left to tell. i hope you'll all forgive me and i won't make any more promises but i will try my best to get the ACTUAL final chapter out soon! enjoy!

Yoshino’s new name was apparently Kamina Seishuu, and he lived a mere half hour’s drive away from the station.

“You sure about this?” said Bokuto as Kuroo parked the car.

“We’re here for answers, not an arrest,” said Kuroo. “As long as we make sure he knows that, there shouldn’t be any trouble.”

Bokuto shrugged, looking uncertain. “Whatever you say, man.” He followed Kuroo to the door.

A man in his early thirties answered when Kuroo rang the bell, and Kuroo’s first impression of him was that he had a terrible sense of fashion. He wore an obnoxious orange shirt with a plaid jacket over it and a pair of purple sweatpants, as if he’d dressed himself with his eyes closed this morning, and he didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest by it. Kuroo was reminded of his own college days, but he pushed the memories quickly out of his mind.

“Can I help you?” said Yoshino--or rather, Kamina.

Putting on his friendliest smile, Kuroo held up his badge.

Kaminari’s eyes widened. “Am I in trouble? I--I haven’t done anything.”

 _What a terrible liar_. “We’re not here on official business, actually. We just have some questions about a...an older case that you may have been involved in.”

“Oh,” said Kamina, realization flashing briefly in his dark eyes. Kuroo expected him to slam the door in their faces then, but instead he just sighed. “This is about the Tsukishima case, isn’t it? I’m surprised it took you so long to find me.”

“Actually, it only took a few hours--” Bokuto said, but Kuroo nudged him.  

“Knew it would come back to get me eventually. Guess you’ll want to come in, then,” said Kamina, leading them to a kitchen table that seated four. “Wife and kids are on vacation, but I try not to travel too much...for obvious reasons.”

“Seems like you’ve settled into your new life nicely,” commented Kuroo.

“It’s not much different from what I’ve always wanted,” said Kaminari. “I’m not a criminal. Or--I’m not a murderer, at least. I’ll tell you everything that happened, detective. You can arrest me for breaking into that house and for running away, but I didn’t kill that kid.”

“I believe you,” said Kuroo. “Let’s just start at the beginning. How did you end up in the Tsukishima household that night?”

-:-

Kuroo found Tsukishima’s grave easily enough with some directions.

He didn’t have anything to offer--it had been a snap decision and he hadn’t passed any flower shops on the way.

Next to his grave was Akiteru’s. They both had pretty much the same inscriptions-- _beloved son, valued friend_...Kuroo swallowed. At each grave was a small star-shaped flower, brown and withered by now and starting to give off that sickly sweet smell rotting flowers tended to radiate.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about those.”

Kuroo jolted at the familiar voice behind him and realized at the same time that he had leaned down to pick up the flowers. He stood quickly to face his neighbor, the nice one with the nervous smile.

Yamaguchi Tadashi was holding two fresh star flowers in his hands and wearing that same smile he always had, small and tired.

“Hi,” said Kuroo, feeling guilty for some reason.

“I’ll take care of those,” said Yamaguchi, indicating the flowers.

“Right,” said Kuroo. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s nice to see someone visiting Tsukki every once in a while,” said Yamaguchi while he set down the new flowers he’d brought and swept the old ones aside. “I hear you’ve been making good progress on the house.”

“What…? Oh, you mean the renovations. Yeah, Tanaka-san managed to get some minor stuff done on the same day as the inspection and referred me to someone who could help me out with the yard,” said Kuroo, trailing off when he saw Yamaguchi lower his head in prayer at Tsukishima’s grave. “Um, maybe I’ll just go--”

“Today marks the anniversary of his death,” said Yamaguchi without looking up.

Kuroo felt stupid doing it, but he checked his phone.

October 4.

He watched Yamaguchi rearrange the flowers, putting the white petals in place and straightening the stems. “What kind of flowers are those?”

“Asphodel,” replied Yamaguchi. “It means...’My regrets follow you to the grave.’”

Kuroo frowned. “Why?”

“It's the only thing I know for certain,” said Yamaguchi. “There’s just...a lot of things I regret not telling him. Time I regret not spending with him. I guess I just wasn’t ready for him to disappear so suddenly.”

“No one was, were they?” said Kuroo.

Yamaguchi sighed softly. “Akiteru’s death only made it worse. Losing both of them like that…”

“Do you come here every week?”

“I try to.” Yamaguchi stood up and brushed off his pants. The freckles splashed across his cheeks made him look young despite the weary atmosphere about him. “Tsukki was my best friend.”

“Oh,” said Kuroo. “Yeah, I--I've heard.”

Yamaguchi raised his eyebrows. “From who?”

“Oh,” Kuroo repeated. _You know, just the ghost of Tsukishima himself_. “Just, uh, people. You know, like--” Kuroo’s mind raced. “--Suga-san. The owner of that diner? You guys went to school together, right?”

“Ah,” said Yamaguchi with a fond smile, and with painstaking subtlety Kuroo let out the breath he’d been holding. “Yeah, we were all on the volleyball team.”

Kuroo smiled too, shakily.

“So how’s the investigation going?”

Kuroo’s smile froze on his face. “Hm?”

“You’ve been looking into the Tsukishima case, right?”

“Oh,” said Kuroo, forcing out a light-hearted chuckle. “Because I’m a detective, right?”

“Because you care.”

Kuroo didn’t know how to reply, but Yamaguchi didn’t seem to mind.

“I have to go now,” said Yamaguchi. “Maybe we can continue talking next time.”

“Sure,” said Kuroo, still stunned. “I’d like that.”

-:-

Tsukishima was there to greet him when he got back home, hovering about near the front door.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," said Kuroo. "Gonna tell me you have dinner waiting too?"

“Let’s watch a movie,” muttered Tsukishima, lacing his fingers together.

“Uh--okay,” said Kuroo. “Did you have anything in mind…?”

“I’ll let you choose.” Without waiting for a reply, Tsukishma drifted off into the living room and took his spot above his usual couch cushion.

Kuroo frowned, but went over to the DVD case. "You know who I went to see today, right?"

"You told me about it this morning," said Tsukishima in that bored tone Kuroo had come to learn was an indication that he didn't want to talk about it.

"Later, then," said Kuroo.

Tsukishima hesitated, then nodded. "Later."

"Then for now--" Kuroo pulled out a copy of _Meet the Robinsons._

“Really?”

“Don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it,” said Kuroo.

They got about twenty minutes into the movie before he finally added, “Also, the main character kind of looks like you.”

Tsukishima scoffed. “If I was half as smart as him, I would have come up with something that could shut you up a long time ago.”

“You talk like we’ve known each other for years,” said Kuroo with a grin.

Tsukishima’s eyes widened.

Sensing he’d overstepped a boundary, Kuroo backtracked quickly. “I didn’t mean--”

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Tsukishima. “I was just thinking about how we probably wouldn’t have been very good friends if we’d known each other when I was alive.”

“Whoa--what makes you say that?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “I just didn’t get out much. You probably wouldn’t have paid any attention to someone like me.”

“Well, I’m paying attention to you now, aren’t I? And as far as I can tell you get out even less than you probably did when you actually had the ability to leave the house.”

“Very funny.”

“I mean it.” Kuroo paused the movie and turned to look at Tsukishima. “I’ll tell you as many times as it takes for you to believe it. You’re not a charity case and you’re not the thing that goes bump in the night--although if it is you that’s always rattling my windows in the middle of the night I would really appreciate it if you stopped...okay, the point is that maybe when I first started doing this I was just another jerk who was sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, but now it’s different because you’re my friend. Somewhere along the way I started to care about what might happen to you and what you wanted because I thought you’d want to have that choice. So what happens from here on out is up to you.

“Whatever you want to say, you have the right to say it. You always did.”

Tsukishima stared at Kuroo for a long time, as if he was having trouble comprehending Kuroo’s words. It was eerie how still he was--like a transparent statue. He didn’t breathe or blink and his gaze was so distant it seemed like he was staring straight through Kuroo rather than at him, like he’d forgotten he was there. Kuroo wondered whether time simply passed differently for Tsukishima, who spent every moment of his existence drifting aimlessly about. If Kuroo was stuck like that, he would have learned to take his time with everything he did, too.

Before he knew it, Kuroo was blinking himself awake to the harsh light of the television in the now dark living room. His watch read near midnight.

Tsukishima hadn’t moved from his spot, but he tilted his head when he saw that Kuroo was awake. “About time. Have a nice nap there, Sleeping Beauty?”

Kuroo didn’t answer, just waited to see what Tsukishima had to say. It didn’t take long.

“I’ve decided that I don’t need to know what happened,” said Tsukishima. “Not yet.”

Kuroo raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure? You’ve been waiting for years.”

“And all those years what I wanted didn’t have a thing to do with who killed me. I just wanted the answer because I thought it would make me disappear.” Tsukishima closed his eyes as if he was replaying the past half-decade in his mind. “Better to stop existing than have to go on by yourself for the rest of eternity.”

“You’ve scared away everyone who’s stepped foot into this house.”

“They would have all left anyway, voluntarily or not. What little time I had with them wouldn’t have been worth watching them leave. Even now it’s still true.”

“So why am I still here?”

“Because you can make it so that I get to leave too.”

“But not yet."

“You said it yourself, didn’t you?” Tsukishima averted his gaze, fingers laced. “We’re friends now. I just thought it would be nice to spend a little time remembering what it was like to have someone to talk to every once in a while.”

“Tsukishima, I had no idea you felt that way about me,” teased Kuroo, though he could feel himself beaming with affection.

“Yeah, well, I can assure you it wasn’t voluntary,” said Tsukishima. It was near impossible to tell in the dark, but Kuroo swore he saw a smudge of pink bloom across his nose. “Can we finish this dumb movie now?”

“Okay, but before we do that,” said Kuroo. “I have an idea.”

-:-

Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kenma arrived sometime before noon that Sunday.

“Dang, this place looks good!” said Bokuto, whistling as he looked over the newly redone main hall.

Kenma made a beeline for the couch, cellphone in hand.

Akaashi handed Kuroo a small, compact stereo. “My younger cousin’s. He didn’t want it anymore.”

“Thanks. This saves me a whole lot of time and money,” said Kuroo.

“So is he…” Bokuto leaned in close and stage-whispered, “ _watching?_ ”

“He’s probably busy primping. He doesn’t usually have so many guests over at once,” said Kuroo.

“You're a riot,” said Tsukishima as he melted out of the wall near Akaashi, who looked unperturbed but moved aside as if to make room for him.

“Whoa!” said Bokuto, laughing like it was the most amazing thing he’d ever witnessed. Then again, it was probably close.

Akaashi put a hand to his chin, staring unabashedly at him. “This is definitely something else. You’re clearly Tsukishima Kei.”

“The one and only,” replied Tsukishima.

“So, living room? I’ve got some stuff set up,” said Kuroo, and the group made the migration to their new destination, where Kenma was still tapping away at his phone on the couch.

“Hello,” he said to Tsukishima. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Hi,” replied Tsukishima. “Sorry about last time.”

Kenma shrugged. “You were technically doing your job.”

“Well, that was touching,” said Kuroo as he watched Tsukishima shrug back. “So, we’ve got movies, video games, board games…”

“Ooh, do you have _Meet the Robinsons_?” said Bokuto. “I haven’t watched that one in a while.”

Tsukishima directed a disbelieving look at Kuroo, who replied with a smirk.

“I vote MarioKart,” put in Kenma, who had gone back to playing some kind of rhythm game on his phone.

“You always vote MarioKart,” said Akaashi. “It’s all you ever vote for.”

“It’s the only decent game Kuroo has,” defended Kenma, somewhat missing the point. Without further ado, he turned on Kuroo’s game console and the others gathered around to choose their controllers.

“So this was your idea?” Tsukishima said.

“Is it working?” said Kuroo.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “You’re pretty eager to be rid of me.”

“Hey, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Tsukishima’s lips curved into a small smile, and Kuroo’s stomach flipped when he realized it was the first genuine one he’d ever seen on him.  

“O-okay,” Kuroo stuttered loudly, hoping to drown out the sound of his heart pounding against his rib cage.

If Tsukishima noticed anything, he didn’t mention it and simply turned to join the others, declaring Kenma his representative player.

 _Okay_ , Kuroo repeated in his head. _Whatever the hell that was, it was weird and don’t do it again._

And then the race started and Bokuto drove his cart straight off a cliff and Tsukishima _laughed_ \--

That night, after everyone had left and Tsukishima had vanished off to wherever he went when the moon came up, Kuroo lay in bed with his eyes open and sighed quietly.

 _The guy’s dead, but that didn’t stop you, did it?_ he grumbled to himself. _You’ve done it now, Tetsurou._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kamina/yoshino is some random guy i made up LOL sorry if you guys were trying to connect him to a canon hq character ^^''


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is!! im rather proud of myself for getting this in on time hahah....anyway, thanks so much to everyone who has been reading, commenting, leaving kudos, and bookmarking!!!! i cant believe this story picked up so many devoted readers im so glad we all got to go through this journey together ;v; so without further ado, here is the final chapter!! enjoy!!

The next morning, Tsukishima was nowhere to be found.

Kuroo woke to the sound of his cell phone chiming and opened it to receive a text from Kenma.

_captain’s reassigning ito’s case to us. ito’s on the warpath. i would stay home if i were you._

“Good god,” Kuroo muttered, rubbing his eyes and stretching before sitting up and tapping down a reply.

_send me the files then?_

Kenma’s reply was almost immediate.

_already did._

“Looks like we have the day to ourselves,” said Kuroo as he strolled into the bathroom.

There was no answer.

“Hey,” Kuroo tried again. “You sleeping in today or something?”

He found himself brushing his teeth and eating breakfast in silence.

As promised, Kenma had sent over everything on the case and Kuroo spent some time getting himself acquainted with it as he waited for Tsukishima to appear. At some point, there was a call from Tanaka and they agreed on a day to continue working on the house. Akaashi texted to thank Kuroo for inviting them over the previous afternoon and there was an ongoing conversation with Kenma regarding details, questions, and theories about the case. Kuroo had a microwave lunch.

By two in the afternoon, there was still no sign of Tsukishima.

“Guess you’re still pretty worn out from yesterday,” said Kuroo to the empty living room. He knew there would be no reply, but still felt uneasy when the room remained silent. “At least show me a sign that you’re still here?”

After five minutes of waiting and no trace of the ghost boy (or any other supernatural activity, for that matter), Kuroo had his phone out.

_know any good diy guides to summoning spirits?_

_kei being shy?_

_not a peep since last night_

_are you worried?_

Kuroo looked up randomly, as if he was expecting Tsukishima to be there.

_i don’t know. sort of._

_have you tried calling out to him?_

_pretty much all day. i feel really stupid every time._

_i meant by name_

Kuroo blinked. He and Tsukishima didn’t often address each other directly like that. “Tsukishima?”

The only reply was the sound of his phone chiming.

 _his_ first _name._

_what does it matter?_

_names have power_

_we are definitely not renting the next season of that paranormal investigations show_

_it will at least make him notice you_

Kuroo sighed and put his phone down. It was getting dark already, which reminded him that weather reports had predicted a storm coming in this afternoon. Maybe Tsukishima had sensed it with his weird ghostly powers. Was he afraid of thunder?

“Kei,” said Kuroo. The name was weird on his tongue, too personal. He had never been given permission to call Tsukishima by his given name. “You’re still here, aren’t you? You still have questions that need answering.”

Distantly, Kuroo became aware of a soft pattering noise coming from the roof and realized that it was raining.  His cell phone was silent. Kenma had no more advice left to give him.

Kuroo sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I know you're there, Kei. You wouldn't leave without telling me, because you know how...you know how I..."

A crack of thunder made him jump in his seat, cutting him off. It was dark enough now that he could barely see across the room.

"God, this is so stupid," he breathed to himself, dropping his head into his hands. "Did you ever even exist?"

"You know, if you think about it, I totally could just be a figment of your imagination."

Kuroo jolted and stumbled off the couch. "You--!"

Tsukishima shimmered into existence in front of him, something Kuroo had never seen him do. He was significantly more transparent than usual, to the point where he was barely even visible, but he was there nonetheless and the smile on his face made Kuroo's breath catch.

"Then again," he continued, "could you really have had the imagination to create someone quite as unique and charming as me?"

"No," said Kuroo without missing a beat. "I've never met anyone like you."

"I really was about to leave," said Tsukishima.

"I wouldn't have asked you to stay. I'm not that selfish."  

"I know. I was afraid that I would want to stay."

"Because you realized that you're madly in love with me?"

"Something like that."

"Hah--” Kuroo started before registering the meaning of Tsukishima’s response. “Wait, seriously?"

Tsukishima looked away, scowling. "Is it so hard to believe that someone would grow attached to the first person they've talked to in years?"

"So it could have been anyone."

“Well...no, I really don’t think it could have.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Just to hear it, I guess.”

“Because your ego is clearly in need of further inflation.”

Kuroo grinned. “So now that you’re here, what’s the plan? Feel like sticking around a little longer?”

“I made my decision last night,” said Tsukishima. “I’m here because I…”

“Because you don’t want to go out alone.”

“I don’t know what happens after this.”

“I’m right here.”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Until the end.”

“Do you think…” Tsukishima began, but he trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“I don’t care,” said Kuroo. “Tell me.”

Tsukishima stuck his hands in his pockets, as if to stop himself from lacing his fingers together. “I was just thinking that if I saw Akiteru on the other side, or whatever...I wouldn’t really know what to say to him.”

“You’re nervous?”

“I know it’s dumb, especially since I’ve been talking all this time about how there’s nothing on the other side, but I just--I mean, it’s not like I’m hoping he’ll be there, but if he is...I don’t know.”

“Do you think you would be able to forgive him?” said Kuroo. “If he really was the one who did it.”

“I don’t know,” Tsukishima said again. “I was so sure I would never know what happened that I didn’t stop to consider what I would do if I ever did find out.”

“Then will finding out now help you decide?”

“So you really do know what happened.”

“You never saw him, but there was a third person there that night. He’s the one who told me everything that happened.”

Tsukishima stiffened, eyes wide and fixed on Kuroo. “You said he was just someone who knew the story.”

“I didn’t want to tell you about it until you were ready to hear the whole thing because I didn’t want to confuse you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. I get it,” said Tsukishima.  

Kuroo absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair as he paused briefly to organize his thoughts and figure out his wording.

“He wasn’t even a proper thief. Just some klepto who thought he’d see how far he could get in some random house at the edge of town. Akiteru happened to be up getting a drink of water when he caught the guy snooping around the kitchen--that much was written in the case file,” said Kuroo.

“So...he didn’t…?”

“Hold on. Just listen,” said Kuroo.

Tsukishima laced and unlaced his fingers, eyes darting around like he was looking for some physical indication of what Kuroo might say next. Kuroo waited silently for him to gather himself together, and eventually Tsukishima managed to settle his gaze back on him.

“The only entrance to the kitchen is right next to the door that leads to the backyard. Akiteru realized what was going on as soon as he saw the thief and moved in front of the door to block off his escape route,” said Kuroo. He spoke clearly and calmly, but his palms were sweating. If Tsukishima reacted in a bad way, there was no telling what would happen to either of them. He’d never seen Tsukishima lose his temper, but he had watched enough of Kenma’s weird television shows to know that no one escaped uscathed after upsetting a ghost.

“He picked up a kitchen knife,” Kuroo continued. “The thief surrendered almost right away, and Akiteru reached for the phone to call the police. That was when you entered the kitchen.”

“I woke up after hearing their voices,” said Tsukishima. “I thought it was my brother talking with my parents.”

Kuroo took a deep breath, watching Tsukishima carefully as he spoke. “Akiteru was still holding the knife. When the thief spotted you in the doorway, he shouted. Your brother panicked, thinking it was another intruder. The thief took advantage of the confusion and shoved him away from the door to make his escape. He shoved him towards you.”

Tsukishima touched his chest, where the bloodstains on his shirt remained bright red, as if he was still bleeding. “Just like that?”

“Yeah,” said Kuroo. “Just like that.”

“Where is he now? The thief.”

“He agreed to turn himself in after we spoke. He didn’t know about what had happened until afterwards. He’ll do time for breaking and entering, but I haven’t heard yet if he’s going to be charged for murder.”

The room went quiet. If Tsukishima wasn’t right there in front of him, Kuroo would have thought he was gone already. It was alarming, but what truly frightened Kuroo was that he was still there and yet remained silent. Had they made the wrong choice?  

Then, Tsukishima whispered so quietly that Kuroo could barely make out his words: “Akiteru didn’t do it.”

Kuroo frowned. “Look, I know it’s hard--”

“No, I believe you. I know you’re right about what happened,” said Tsukishima. “What I meant to say is that I’m glad he didn’t do it on purpose after all.”

The relief in Tsukishima’s expression made Kuroo’s chest ache. “You really did think he murdered you.”

“There was a time when I felt like he’d let me down,” said Tsukishima. “I pretended like he didn’t exist; it was cruel. We made up during my first year in high school, but I was always secretly afraid that he still hated me for what I’d done.

“He was never anything but kind to me, even when I walked past him like he wasn’t there. I knew I didn’t deserve it, so to feel better about myself I made up these stupid little stories in my head about how he was just faking it. I didn’t entirely believe it, but I couldn’t let it go either.”  

Kuroo looked down. What could he say? “I’m sure he wasn’t”? There was no way he could know that.

“He took his life in the room we used to share,” said Tsukishima. “I watched the entire time as he hung a wire on the ceiling fan and then kicked the chair out from underneath his feet. I thought maybe we would be able to meet each other then, but I never saw him again after they dragged his body out in a body bag.”

“You both thought he was guilty,” said Kuroo. “But you’re the one who wanted to believe he wasn’t. That’s how you ended up like this.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And now that you know what happened?”

“I feel...lighter.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “What, like you’re ascending, or something?”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “Not just yet. We have time.”

“Then tell me about yourself,” said Kuroo. The more Tsukishima talked, the longer the Kuroo would be able to remember the sound of his voice afterwards, he reasoned to himself. He desperately wished he could hear him laugh again.

“You’ve read my case file a million times,” said Tsukishima.

“I want to know about you from before you died,” said Kuroo. “Where were you born?”

“Here in this town,” said Tsukishima. “There was a local hospital just a couple miles away.”

“It’s still there,” recalled Kuroo before jumping to his next question. “You played volleyball in high school, didn’t you? So did I.”

“I joined the club with Yamaguchi during our first year. Middle blocker.”

“Hey, so was I. What was your team like?”

“Good. They were...good.”

“You liked your teammates?”

“Not at first. Volleyball was just a club to me in the beginning, so I didn’t really care about who I played with. These two guys in particular--they were overbearing and fought all the time and then turned around two minutes later to declare their eternal devotion for each other. It was annoying as hell. Two years later, I was co-captain of the team with one of them.”

“Who were they?”

“They were in my year. Kageyama--a setter--had a temper and was an obsessive perfectionist. He was the other captain during our third year. His teammates in middle school called him King of the Court. I did too, for a while, to tease him. Not my brightest moments.”

“And the other one?”

“Hinata. Pitifully short. He was terrible at volleyball and yet was always going on about becoming the team’s ace.”

“And they were _friends_?”

“Life partners, basically. They made a good team and we relied on them a lot. They were planning on going professional after we graduated.”

“What about you?”

“I didn’t do much during the first half of the season. Like I said, I didn’t exactly have the greatest work ethic when it came to volleyball. I thought it was stupid, but somehow their obnoxious enthusiasm started drawing everyone in and before I knew it Yamaguchi of all people was lecturing me about how much of a prick I was being.”

“Really? I can’t imagine someone as shy as him scolding you.”

“He’s really not that shy--just quiet. He’s not afraid to speak up when he has to.”

“He visits you a lot.”

“I know.” Tsukishima glanced away, probably in the direction of the graveyard. “I can hear him talking to me sometimes. The others do, too. Hinata and Kageyama like to talk about their competitions whenever they come home. They won gold at the Olympics two summers ago.”

“Have you ever tried to talk back?”

“I want to,” said Tsukishima. “Every time. But no, I’ve never tried. If they heard me and knew I was still around...it wouldn’t be right. They’ve already moved on and they deserve to keep that.”

Kuroo didn’t know how to reply. Years spent alone, with loved ones at arm’s length, and Tsukishima had held back. “I’ve never met anyone with that kind of strength.”

“I did it for selfish reasons, too,” said Tsukishima. “It would have made it harder for me to leave, getting to be with them again.”

“But you’re okay now,” said Kuroo.

“I’m okay now,” agreed Tsukishima. “No going back.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Tsukishima flickered and the outline of his image blurred. Tsukishima blinked, looking dazed, and panic seized Kuroo for a brief moment. He forced himself to calm down and managed to stop himself from shouting something stupid like _Don’t go yet_.

“Is this it, then?” he said instead. “Do I get a kiss goodbye?”

It was just a joke, but when Tsukishima’s eyes widened like he’d just heard the most scandalous proposition of the century, Kuroo realized that he might have been at least a little bit serious about it after all.  

Then, Tsukishima laughed.

It was a quiet laugh, hidden behind his hand as if he wasn’t sure it was appropriate, but it was enough to send Kuroo’s heart rate through the roof.  

Kuroo reached out, something he’d never done before because it was obvious what would happen, and was disappointed but unsurprised when his hand went straight through Tsukishima’s.

“Close your eyes,” said Tsukishima, and Kuroo obeyed.

“I’ll miss you,” Kuroo said. “But we’ll meet again.”

“Is that a promise, detective?” said Tsukishima.

“You bet it is, ghost boy.”

“You can call me Kei the next time we see each other, then...if you’ll let me call you Tetsurou.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

There was the barest hint of pressure on his lips, cool and gentle like mist, and then Tsukishima was gone.

Neither of them had said goodbye.

-:-

Yamaguchi was there at the graveyard the next morning.

“Hello,” he said when he saw Kuroo, and Kuroo returned the greeting.

The wilted white asphodels from last week had been brushed aside again, but this time in their place lay two bouquets of brilliant pink flowers with long, diamond-shaped petals.

“These are…”

“Cyclamen. Sometimes they’re used as a symbol of resignation. Otherwise, they’re symbols of departure and used to say farewell,” said Yamaguchi.

“What are these ones for?”

“I got a job in Osaka,” said Yamaguchi. “I don’t think I’ll be back. Not for a while.”

“Congratulations,” said Kuroo.

Yamaguchi’s smile this time was different--fuller, more solid, and Kuroo couldn’t help but smile back.

“Carnations?” said Yamaguchi, indicating the flowers Kuroo had almost forgotten he was holding.

“Ah--yeah, I've read somewhere that they mean something like ‘I’ll remember you,’” said Kuroo somewhat sheepishly. “Is that right?”

“For the most part,” said Yamaguchi, and his smile turned lopsided. “They’re also given during confessions and used to denote true love.”

“Right,” said Kuroo, failing to resist the urge to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “That is something I did not know.”

“It seems appropriate to me,” said Yamaguchi. “I think you and Tsukki would have really liked each other if you’d met while he was alive.”

Kuroo’s heart swelled, and for some reason he wanted to hug Yamaguchi and cry _thank you!_

He laid the carnations down at the grave, next to the cyclamen. They looked good together.  

“I think so, too.”


End file.
